


mission: impossible

by futuredescending



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 01:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15131804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futuredescending/pseuds/futuredescending
Summary: Harry had been doing quite well for himself through five decades of not having to interact with very many children at all when he just so happened to fall incredibly and insipidly in love with a gorgeous man who just so happened to love them.And that love primarily took the form of an adoration and over-protectiveness for his toddler-aged half-sister.Or: that time when Daisy has to come stay with Harry and Eggsy, and the essence of Harry's very soul is tested to its limit.





	mission: impossible

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnaofAza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaofAza/gifts).



> AnnaofAza is a fiend who delivered this prompt: "I want that fic where Harry actually dislikes children in all forms and then finds himself dating someone who has a todler-age sister. Who has no filter. Who throws tantrums. Who asks impertinent questions. Who wants to hear the same song over and over. Whom Eggsy loves. Whoop."

Harry never really much cared for children. Never understood what the fuss was about. He didn’t find them irresistibly adorable or entertaining or, despite what mawkish sentiments on those noxious inspirational posters would have one believe, particularly very wise. And yes, whilst many gay men and women around the world have had and still do fight incredibly hard for the right to bear, adopt, and raise children, Harry had assumed that, as a gay man, having a relatively slim to zero chance of impregnating a woman was to be one of the perks.

In fact, as a single child who sprang forth from a non-profligate gene pool, Harry had been doing quite well for himself through five decades of not having to interact with very many children at all when he just so happened to fall incredibly and insipidly in love with a gorgeous, scandalously young man who just so happened to _love_ them.

And that love primarily took the form of an adoration and over-protectiveness for his toddler-aged half-sister.

Which brought them to the present: Eggsy giving him an adorable grimace (even Eggsy’s ugliest faces were adorable to Harry, which was how he knew he was sickeningly inflicted by love), every line in his body tensed as if it were trying to contain the bad news he had to come to bear.

After a deep breath, though, Eggsy came out with it. “I know we was supposed to be on holiday this week, but Mum’s come down with shingles and the nanny’s _also_ come down with shingles and there’s no one else who can care for Daisy last minute.”

Harry always appreciated how Eggsy never seemed to think Harry so dim as needing to have things spelt out and therefore frequently limited his most emotional outbursts to the factual in order to let Harry put the rest of the pieces together. It didn’t always work out so well (perhaps Harry was a lot dimmer than Eggsy assumed), but in this particular scenario, Harry’s suspicions were well on the money.

“Ah. I suppose I shall ring the resort to cancel our reservations.”

Goodbye, beautiful Azores beaches, warm sun, and blue skies. The chance to shamelessly oogle Eggsy in a scrap of a swimming costume, get embarrassingly drunk on cloying cocktails, and not have to worry about whether or not the waiter carried a gun beneath his serving tray.

Eggsy winced. His hands fluttered about in front of him like he could conjure up a solution out of thin air. “I’m so sorry. I know you was looking forward to it. I was too, but….”

“Eggsy,” Harry said, in what he hoped was his most stoically reassuring manner, “It’s not your fault. You need to do what you have to do for your family. We’ll just postpone our trip. It’s fine.”

Of course, given their chosen professions and the state of the world, the opportunity to synchronise time off again probably wouldn’t happen for at least another year if Merlin had anything to say about it. Goodbye, body shots and that glorious looking hot tub their accommodations had been equipped with.

Reassured, at least, of Harry’s reaction, Eggsy forged on ahead, his shoulders easing some of their tension. “Alright. Alright, yeah. Well. I suppose I should look into booking a hotel around here. Maybe The Rydges? They kid-friendly?”

Harry frowned and nearly opened his mouth to ask what Eggsy was talking about—why would Eggsy need a hotel room?—when it hit him (see? Not as quick on his feet as Eggsy thought). Michelle couldn’t care for her young daughter and neither could their nanny. Daisy couldn’t stay in the house with them lest she contract the highly contagious infection either, uselessly vulnerable a creature as she was. Eggsy had already taken it upon himself to care for his beloved sister in the meantime and meant to stay in a hotel with her for as long as it took for the rest of his family to recover. At least the week. Which meant not only was their holiday off, but he’d be seeing even less of Eggsy than ever.

And thus Harry panicked, because the notion was intolerable. It simply would not do. Out of sheer blind terror, his mouth produced words that certainly weren’t vetted by his brain. “Why shouldn’t you stay here? You already live here.”

Eggsy’s elegantly arched brows furrowed. “Well. I didn’t want to assume anything. This is your house. You never....uh.” He stopped and wetted his lips, turning them a lusciously shiny dark berry colour, which was terribly distracting.

Distracting enough for Harry to only belatedly process his hesitant words. “Never what?”

“You never really struck me as the sort who...liked kids?” Eggsy said like it were a question, leaving ample room and hope for Harry to correct him.

Which left Harry at a crossroads, didn’t it? He could be perfectly honest with Eggsy and admit that, yes, children were a matter he was wholly unqualified to handle and he had little desire for that to change. Eggsy would certainly be understanding about it. He accepted so many things about Harry that were, quite frankly, strange and off-putting to most others. 

But.

But Eggsy’s eyes would probably hold just a little bit less light whenever he looked at him. The whole matter would become yet another way in which Harry had come to disappoint him, with Harry falling down a few more notches in Eggsy’s estimations. Worse still, there was a whole other half to Eggsy’s life he’d been keeping separate from Harry. Admittedly, it was for very good reasons: Michelle didn’t particularly have much fondness for him to begin with for getting her husband killed and dragging her son into the very same career where the chances of him meeting a similar end were significantly high, an opinion that had even less hope for reversal when she also learned Harry was shagging him as well.

Therefore, it was natural for Eggsy to keep his family and his life with Harry and Kingsman separate, and usually it wouldn’t bother Harry so much, except that lately, he could tell Eggsy was growing increasingly troubled by something. The division between the two halves of his life was beginning to weigh harder upon his shoulders as demands from both sides only increased. A rich and fulfilling family life was a privilege few Kingsman agents could maintain and few ever bothered to attempt, but Eggsy was stubbornly determined to do just that. Yet Harry also knew Eggsy didn’t enjoy keeping secrets in his personal life, was almost honest to a fault, and preferred to wear his heart on his Adidas-covered sleeve when he wasn’t on the job.

Suffice to say, something had to give and it would happen soon. Harry only feared the pressure of trying to maintain two adversely different lifestyles would eventually lead Eggsy to think it was all a zero sum game and he would have to make a choice. A choice that, Harry strongly suspected, wouldn’t be in Harry’s favour if he couldn’t learn to yield at least a little bit. Bend, not break.

And so, Harry might have lied. A little bit. A little white lie that was harmless.

“While I don’t have a lot of experience with children,” he said, which was perfectly true. “I don’t mind them. In fact, I’d really love the chance to welcome more of them in my life.” Which was not.

But he would have sworn in court all of it was true, sworn on his life and the lives of his nonexistent children, just to witness the ephemeral gleam of surprised delight that fluttered across Eggsy’s features. It had been a long time since Harry saw that particular reaction aimed in his direction, and the sensation of it, an immediate endorphin rush that had the sharp and intense impact of a bullet to the gut, made him heady.

Emboldened by Eggsy’s newly reestablished awe of him, Harry stood up to face the expanse of the ground floor of his home. He was now a Man with a Plan. For Eggsy, he could and would suffer a week of slobbering exposure to a child. He would even scale a mountain of screaming, crying, snotty babies. And he would do it all with a smile. Show Eggsy that Harry could very much be trusted with all aspects of his life, from disapproving mothers to moisture-leaking babies. And maybe Michelle would never come round to liking him, but he was fairly certain he could get an ineffectual little human to fucking love him. He could be quite charming when he wanted to be. 

“We’ll do what we must to prepare for Miss Unwin’s stay. Perhaps push the couch back to make room for a pen enclosure. You wouldn’t think she’d need more than a few square feet to roam?”

Apparently, that wasn’t the correct thing to say judging by Eggsy’s expression. “Fucking hell, Harry. She ain’t a pig. We’re not putting her in an _enclosure_. Look, if you’re serious about this—”

“I am,” Harry said earnestly.

Eggsy was still amused, at least. The corners of his mouth were slightly turned up as he stood up and laid a hand across Harry’s chest reassuringly, but also to, Harry noted with no small amount of internal preening, stroke the hard muscle there. “—then, yeah, there’s probably some baby-proofing we’ll have to do. And get the guest room set up proper but...it’s not as complicated as a some of them missions you’ve plotted out with Merlin. Babies are...easy. I promise. They just want food and love. And I have it on good authority you are very good at providing both.”

A bit more humbled now (the teacher has become the student, he thought ruefully), Harry bowed his head a little, acquiescing to Eggsy’s clearly superior knowledge in this regard. “I shall look forward to meeting another important person in your life.”

The significance of that statement was made clear by the way Eggsy’s eyes widened and his expression softened. It was additionally thrilling when his gaze then darkened and he dragged Harry’s head down so he could stick his tongue down Harry’s throat.

Daisy Unwin. Eggsy’s sister. A child. A horrifically young one at that. But if Eggsy said they were easy, then Harry, who’s foiled and instigated coups, prevented and committed assassinations, and masterminded intricate plots that regularly affected politics at the global stage, shouldn’t be and wasn’t particularly worried about a small, formlessly brained human who came up to his knee and weighed less than two stone.

He should have been.


End file.
